


Aliens Didn't Exactly Make Them Do It (but it's as good an excuse as any to put on the official report)

by pipisafoat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Accidental Sex, Aliens Made Them Do It, Blow Jobs, Consent is Sexy, Darkness, Deepthroating, Desperation, Explicit Consent, Face-Fucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Jail Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:45:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9421151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: The aliens put them in the situation that led to the misunderstanding that led to sex, so yes. The aliens can take a portion of the blame. The rest of the blame goes to McKay, John's decided.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainbowwizard1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowwizard1/gifts).



“This is not good.”

“We know.” John exchanged a glance with Teyla, who merely shook her head and leaned her head back against the bars where she sat on the other bench opposite John. He could barely make out her eyes in the dim lighting in the cell, and Ford was almost entirely lost against the dark stone.

“It’s really not good, guys!"

John groaned, reached up to about the height of his head, and grabbed the scientist by the vest, yanking him to a halt from his pacing. “We know, McKay. Can you shut up now?”

“No, I don’t think you do know! This is really, really, not good. This is so not good—“

John sighed in relief at the sudden quiet and decided he’d really rather not move his hand just in case McKay decided to try talking again. A quick squeeze to tender dick and/or balls would probably shut the man up again - he wasn’t going to think too hard about exactly what bulge was what in his hand. He did, however, release McKay's vest with his other hand and gently pat his chest in some vague attempt at thanking him for the silence.

“Major—“

He squeezed. Lightly, but enough to get his point across. “No. No more talking, McKay.”

“Sir, there’s some kind of divider coming down in here,” Ford suddenly cut in, and John strained to look over in the dim light to see exactly what the lieutenant had reported. A thick, solid, jet black divider of some sort was moving to the floor quickly enough that John immediately dismissed the idea of throwing McKay under it and rolling across the cell after him. “I’m not—“

All sound cut off when the divider reached the floor, and John sighed. Note to self: keep all team members close at hand even when locked in an alien cell. Stargate Command might already have that rule, but John hadn’t exactly been given any kind of briefing for going off world and certainly not for leading a team, much less the entire military. He was kind of on his own when it came to figuring out the rules.

“Major—“

He squeezed again, enough to feel a full-body wince. “I said no.”

“But—“

“Jesus, McKay, if you don’t keep quiet, I’m going to stuff something down your throat until you choke on it!”

The dick and/or balls moved in his hand, and John’s eyes flew open as wide as they could go. He found his hand readjusting to grip firmly - for future punishing squeezes, that is - before he consciously thought about it.

“Major, please….”

John groaned in frustration. The man just didn’t give up. He didn’t really feel like pulling out a cloth to stuff into McKay’s mouth, so he just slapped his left hand, the one not busy holding him by the crotch, over the never-quiet mouth. Well, he tried to, but the dim lighting had been all but removed by the barrier coming down between them and Ford and Teyla. It really wasn’t his fault that he sort of poked McKay in the mouth with his fingertips.

It was definitely, definitely not his fault that McKay squeaked, opened his mouth, and took all four of John’s fingers into him without the slightest hesitation. McKay shifted a bit, opened wider, and got all the way until John’s last knuckles were pressing against the sides of his mouth. John felt his eyes bug out as McKay swallowed around his fingers, the cock in his hand obviously swelling. 

It was kind of his fault that his hand sort of curved, fingers tucking in tighter together and sliding deeper in McKay’s mouth. He wasn’t really sure he could be blamed entirely, because come on, it’s not like he had any practice at reacting to another man sucking on his entire hand while he accidentally groped a growing hard-on, but … yeah, John was man enough to take at least a good portion of the blame. And to admit that his own crotch was starting to feel tighter than it had a few minutes before. Certain death at the hands of alien religious zealots didn’t really do anything for him, but a bizarre and unexpected blowjob being performed on his hand … yes. That did quite a lot for him, it turned out.

John experimentally slid his fingers all the way out of McKay’s mouth, then traced the lips that were still hanging open. McKay’s tongue, apparently not tired from the incessant talking earlier, darted out and flicked over and around each finger, slipped down to lick the webbing between their bases.

“Jesus,” John whispered, releasing McKay’s crotch to adjust his own. It seemed like he didn’t need to keep his right hand there as a threat against further talking, anyway, so he just left his hand where it landed, vaguely cupping his erection. He wasn’t planning to do anything with it, but it wasn't like he had anywhere better to set it.

McKay’s hand closed around John’s wrist, and he prepared himself to explain how he hadn’t actually meant to shut him up quite like that, but the scientist just opened his mouth around the fingers again, taking a loud breath before swallowing them into his throat. He managed to get deep enough that John’s thumb pressed along McKay’s cheek for a brief moment before his hand was pulled out. McKay coughed and spluttered but went back to swallowing John’s hand whole before he even fully recovered.

“Okay, shit, stop,” John said, surprised to find his voice deeper and scratchier than it had been two minutes before. He adjusted his cock again as he pulled his spit-wet fingers out of McKay’s mouth. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” McKay’s hand followed John’s arm from wrist to shoulder, then he let out a quiet groan that sounded like it was getting closer the floor. His other hand came up and collided with John’s right forearm. “Here….” He pulled John’s hand over to the side and patted it gently as he set it on the bench. After a quiet rustling sound, John felt his still wet left hand being wiped by some sort of cloth that he could only hope didn’t have grease all over it. Cloths carried by engineers tended to be suspect in his experience. Once dry, his hand was also set on the bench and patted gently.

“Thanks,” John said, then made a noise suspiciously similar to McKay’s earlier squeak as the man’s hands closed in on his crotch. There was some rubbing that felt accidental, weirdly enough, but then John felt his button being popped open and his zipper sliding down, slowly enough that he felt the catch of each individual tooth echoing along his hard cock. Thick fingers slipped into the opening, and McKay’s breath caught loudly in his throat with a gasp when no underwear blocked his cock from leaping out into the air. John felt his own gasp ring out to answer McKay’s at the sudden change in temperature on sensitive flesh.

He didn’t even bother trying to stifle his next gasp, when his cock went without preamble into McKay’s mouth and straight down his throat. It was just as good as the treatment on his hand had led him to imagine, and he let out a loud moan as McKay slowly pulled back, sucking all the way.

“Is that what you meant?” a quiet voice asked, and John lunged up from the slouch he hadn’t noticed adopting to grab McKay by the ears as he started to go back down on him.

“Okay, don’t get me wrong, that feels amazing and I’m all for it never stopping, but no. It’s not what I meant at all. I was trying to put my hand over your mouth to shut you up.”

There was a long silence, then McKay made a noise John couldn’t quite identify. “Can I have my ears back?” he asked, and John felt himself blushing as he hurriedly released them.

“Yeah, shit, sorry,” he babbled, then he moaned in surprise as McKay’s mouth sank back down over his erection. “McKay—“ He moaned again, in disappointment this time, as McKay pulled off him.

“I’m pretty sure you can call me Rodney when I’m sucking your dick,” the other man said in a sort of smug voice, and okay, John can give him that. It was a little weird calling him by his last name in the midst of a very satisfying blowjob.

“Rodney,” he corrected himself, putting his fingers over the other man’s mouth and moaning almost immediately as they were sucked in as readily as his other hand’s fingers had been before. “Wait….“ He took a moment to catch his breath after Rodney released the fingers. “You know you don’t—“

“I don’t have to do this, yes, yes, I know,” Rodney said, taking a hold of the base of John’s cock to point it at his mouth again, but then he paused. “Personally, I’m enjoying it, but if you aren’t, I suppose I could always stop.“

“Fucker,” John replied, putting a hand on the back of Rodney’s head. He was pleased at the immediate response and moaned loudly at the suction. He started to pull his hand away but found it being put back immediately. He relaxed into the blowjob, slouched low on the cell bench, and spread his legs as widely as he could.

Rodney shuffled in closer, pulled up until just the head of John’s cock was in his mouth, and stopped moving. John almost pulled the other man off of him again, worried there was still a level of coercion to the encounter that he really wasn’t comfortable with, but then he felt Rodney’s tongue flicking lazily around the head of his cock. He groaned and put pressure on the back of Rodney’s head, pushing him down until his cock was back in the other man’s throat.

A delightful vibration sang through him as he heard Rodney hum, a noise somewhat muffled by the cock in his throat. Again, the man pulled back and paused, and John heard a growl come from his own throat as he pushed Rodney back onto his cock and this time held him there as he moaned.

When Rodney pulled back this time, he lifted his head from John’s lap and said, “Double-tap means let me up, but otherwise feel free to do as you like.”

Shit. Just the idea made John a little bit wild. He gasped a deep breath of stale alien-prison air and pushed - no, shoved - Rodney back onto his cock. He held the man there for a long moment, then pulled him back for the briefest of moments before shoving him back down. He moaned and pushed Rodney all the way off him. “Can I—“

“Yes, God, whatever you want,” Rodney said, speaking more quickly than John had ever heard from him before.

“Slide to your right,” John instructed, lurching to his feet as Rodney complied. “Back to the bars. Rest your head where it’s braced and leave it there.”

The scientist turned out to be not just good at following sexual orders - and why couldn’t he be better at following regular orders? - but eager to please, reaching out for John’s hips to guide him back into Rodney’s mouth for the implied, understood, and utterly mind-blowing face-fucking John had asked for. The simple idea that this pliant and silent Rodney was also somehow the loud, irritating McKay from earlier in the day sent John flying over the edge after only a few thrusts, and the fact that Rodney swallowed without hesitation made him grab the bars and shout helplessly as he humped Rodney’s face until the man double-tapped against his thigh and pushed him back to gasp a breath. Rodney taking John’s spent cock back into his mouth after that one desperate, gasped breath made John let out a wholly undignified whine and collapse uncontrolled to the floor of the cell, where he flailed a hand around until it hit Rodney’s knees. Rodney shuffled closer, a hand finding John’s shoulder and stroking down to his hip, and John shuddered as another spasm of ecstasy flew through him.

The strokes eventually turned from arousing to soothing without anything about them changing, and John completely lost track of time, curled around McK— Rodney’s bent legs with an arm wrapped around the other man’s waist. He could feel the erection pressed against his bicep, but Rodney didn’t try to get anything from John in response to the admittedly amazing blowjob.

“Major? You still with me?”

John made a vague sound of assent and squeezed Rodney’s waist to signal his continued existence, then made a vague sound of disappointment. It took him another minute to gather his brain enough, but then he said, “I think I’m John when you’ve just had my cock in your mouth.”

“Cock?” Rodney sounds almost scandalized. “After all that time I spent training myself to use the more American word ‘dick’, you use ‘cock’?”

John snorted inelegantly into Rodney’s hip. “You trained yourself to use dick?”

“Yes, I did! You try being that much younger at university….” He shifted and coughed. “I can’t believe you use cock.”

“I can’t believe you actually thought I was trying to get you to suck my cock,” John shot back, then squeezed Rodney’s waist again when the other man tensed. “I am so not complaining about the cock-sucking, but I am kind of offended you thought I’d make you suck me off just to shut you up.”

“I … can’t really have that conversation now, thanks,” Rodney said, and the tone of voice he used was so unfamiliar from his mouth that John let it drop without comment. “Though if you’re okay to move now, my knees are _killing_ me.”

John shifted slightly away from Rodney’s legs but left his hand in contact with the other man, tucking his fingers lightly into Rodney’s waistband as the he stretched his legs out, then rose to his feet. Rodney patted John’s hand gently, reminding him of the identical pats before the first stage of the blowjob.

“Where’s the— OW!”

John snorted before he could stop himself. “Okay, we should probably improve your situational awareness,” he commented.

“I have … okay, you might have a point,” Rodney conceded. “But that’s your job, not mine, and you don’t seem to have any problems. Except for still being curled up on the floor, and I’d wager your di— _cock_ is still hanging out of your pants.”

“Mm,” John agrees, and he pulls himself up to his knees using Rodney’s waistband as the other man sits. “You need….”

“Actually not.” Rodney sounds almost embarrassed. “I, um, well, you … I’m fine.”

John frowned and set a hand on Rodney’s knee, sliding it up and down the large thigh. “I don’t mind returning the favor, as long as you don’t ask or tell.”

Rodney coughed in the sort of way that John figured was more of something to do than a real need to cough. “If you’re sure….”

John glared at Rodney then rolled his eyes at himself. Glaring was kind of lost in the dark. “Let me be clear, Rodney. I want your cock - or your dick? - in my mouth, but I’m only going to do that if you make it clear that you also want it.”

A hand landed heavily on John’s, stilling the thigh-rubbing. “Yes, I want that, but it’s going to be pretty quick. In fact, if you don’t stop this,” he squeezed John’s hand, “it won’t even get to the point of blowjobs.”

John moaned and pulled his hand free to allow both hands to work their way into Rodney’s pants. He was greeted by soft, worn underwear that felt more like boxer briefs to him, though how he had any idea in the almost complete lack of light, he wasn’t sure. He reached through the fly of the boxers, hooked Rodney’s erection out into the air, and stroked it just once before Rodney’s hand landed on his shoulder and clenched.

“Oh, fuck, John, seriously, I’m like three seconds away—“

John steered the head of Rodney’s cock into his mouth, absurdly worried about missing that three second deadline. Rodney responded by kneading John’s shoulder roughly and keening a note much higher in pitch than John would have expected the scientist to be capable of.

“Oh, Jesus, John, that’s it, that’s good, that’s, yes, suck it—“

He had no excuse for being this surprised that Rodney McKay was a talker when his mouth wasn’t occupied. He did, however, feel completely justified in his surprise over _enjoying_ this aspect of the man’s talkativeness. A brief thought flitted through his brain, wondering if Rodney was this talkative when he was inside someone, and John shuddered and moaned at the feeling the idea provoked. Rodney’s hand stopped kneading John’s shoulder and just clenched, fingertips digging in, as his hips arched off the bench and into John. There was a flood of bitter, and John moaned again just to feel Rodney’s reactions. The other man shuddered, then shoved John away.

“Too much,” he gasped, and John leaned over to spit Rodney’s release on the cell floor. He liked the act, but the physical result had never grown on him.

“You’re sensitive fast,” he commented, rubbing Rodney’s thighs gently once again and wishing Ford hadn’t had all the water on his side of the barrier.

“Am I?” Rodney’s hand slid down the edge of John’s vest, giving him the shivers. “Mm, get up here.” He tugged on John’s vest until he rose and joined his teammate on the bench.

John reached over and tucked Rodney back into his underwear despite the light pants and moans that causes, then thought for a second and did the same to his own spent cock.

“That’s not where I wanted your hands,” Rodney complained, and John found himself smiling fondly at the almost whiny tone as the other man pulled John’s arms around him. “There, yeah.”

“Cuddler?”

Instead of answering aloud, Rodney turned his face into John’s neck and outright nuzzled, winding his own arms around John’s waist to wait out their captors and get back home to Atlantis.

**Author's Note:**

> the original title for this fic was "smut for whiz" and was supposed to be sex because they're about to die but then of course they live. I ... yeah. That didn't quite happen as planned.


End file.
